I'll come back, when you call me
by coconutcranberries
Summary: Henry decides that it's probably for the best if he takes it in his stride, rather than panicking and burying his head in the snow like he wants to. He's dealt with flying monkeys, a deity that wanted him to "save magic" that turned out to be his great-great grandfather, and walking in on his mothers having sex together. Talking beavers are nothing compared to any of that.
A/N: Hey. This story is my story, and I've put it up on Archive of Our Own, but I wanted to put it up on here as well. No copyright infringement intended, and no warnings needed or triggers. Just some fluff, basically. Thank you!

Chapter One

Henry is seventeen when he falls through the bottom of his wardrobe and ends up in a different world. It makes sense, he thinks, clutching the Storybook close to his chest; his mother, Emma Swan, came into the human world through a magical wardrobe, and now he's returning to The Enchanted Forest through his.

Although, the more he looks around him, the less certain he is of his whereabouts. For one thing, he's almost positive that The Enchanted Forest didn't usually come with a harsh winter, and for another, he's also pretty sure that there were no talking beavers in he's other mum's world. He's pretty sure that Regina would have mentioned it, probably with a touch of disdain in her voice, if only to make Emma laugh.

He shifts his weight from foot to foot and feels the crunch of snow beneath his sneakers. He's dressed for Storybrooke, Maine, not the ninth circle of hell; just a thin jumper and some jeans, and his striped scarf that he's inexplicably fond of, for all that Grace tells him it makes him look like a wannabee Doctor Who. It's cold, he's lost, and there are beavers nearby that look as though they may or may not be talking.

Henry decides that it's probably for the best if he takes it in his stride, rather than panicking and burying his head in the snow like he wants to. He's dealt with flying monkeys, a deity that wanted him to "save magic" and walking in on his mothers having sex together. _All equally harrowing experiences,_ he tells himself sternly _._ Talking beavers are so far down on the list that they barely even begin to register.

He clears his throat and edges forward, his teeth chattering slightly. "Excuse me?"

One of the beaver's squeaks and whips around, her flat tail leaving an imprint in the soft snow. The other beaver narrows its' eyes at Henry, taking in his thin form and the Storybook in his arms, and then it groans heavily, covering its face with its paws.

"Another Son of Adam. If this is anything like the last time, then Aslan be with us."

If Henry wasn't rooted to the ground in shock, he'd probably be a bit offended. _Son of Adam. Aslan_. Henry knows those words. He knows those stories.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is, "I'm cold."

The female Beaver – Mrs Beaver, as she insists on being called later – starts fussing immediately. "Oh, you poor thing. Luckily for you, we're not new to this, we've had our fair share of humans wander through here. Do you know where you are, love?"

Narnia, Henry wants to say, but he doesn't want them to get the wrong impression. He isn't from here, and he sure as hell wasn't looking for this place when he stumbled head-first into his wardrobe – he'd been looking for a place to hide the Storybook before Grace came over for tea. Things had calmed down in Storybrooke for now, but it still wasn't safe for the book to be left lying around, and even if Henry trusted Grace, he didn't trust her father.

He doesn't say any of this. Instead, he mumbles, "I fell through a wardrobe."

Mrs Beaver and Mr Beaver share a look.

It's not a lie. Henry has learnt how to hide his lies from Emma's superpower by now. Part of him feels bad about lying to these creatures, especially since he knows that they're kind and helpful, on the side of good. He doesn't remember everything from his books as a child, but he remembers enough.

Mrs Beaver clucks her tongue and shoos her hands at her husband, who shoots Henry a suspicious look and then darts off through the trees.

"Don't mind him," Mrs Beaver says, waddling closer. "He's just going to fetch the King. You're in Narnia, love. This is what we call the Lantern Waste, and it's ever so lovely here in the Spring. Of course, this is nothing compared to the winters we used to have around here, oh no. But I won't bore you with those tales right now, not when you're as blue as a bird. Someone will fill you in, I'm sure, once we get you somewhere nice and warm. Come along, now, follow me."

Mrs Beaver, Henry learns quickly, likes to talk. She waffles for a mile a minute while Henry trails behind her, shivering, as they plod slowly through the close-cropped trees. The snow is so deep that it fills Henry's boots a little more with each step, and he's absolutely certain that his feet are going to be blue by the end of this. He can't feel his toes as it is, and he's afraid that he might trip up any moment now.

" _There_ you are."

Mr Beaver bounds towards them and fixes his wife with an exasperated stare. Henry watches them talk, smiling a little despite his discomfort, and sluggishly turns his head as hoof beats register in his ears. A brown steed trots into view, it's face speckled with whiter patches, and comes to a graceful stop just a few feet away from Henry. Henry stares, a little mesmerised by the intelligence in the horses' warm eyes, and then someone clears their throat.

He snaps his gaze up to the rider.

At first, all he can see is a shock of black hair and a red uniform. Then, the rider clambers down from the horse with practiced ease and lands with a thud in the snow, shaking their hair. It's a boy about his age, maybe a head taller than Henry, lanky and skinny with very pale skin. There are freckles on his rosy cheeks, and his eyes are dark and solemn, drinking Henry in curiously. Henry shifts, a little unused to such an intense stare, and tucks his chin behind the Storybook.

The boy's eyes flicker across the cover and then drift back to Henry's face, studying him carefully.

Mr Beaver puffs up his chest and announces, "I present King Edmund, the Just."

King Edmund, the Just, winces and flaps a hand at Mr Beaver, who looks unbothered. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? Just Edmund will do."

The horse snorts, rolling its eyes, and Henry takes an alarmed step backwards.

"Do all the animals here talk?" Henry blurts out, before he can stop himself.

"My name's Phillip," the horse snaps, and King Edmund's mouth twitches.

"Don't worry," he says easily. "You get used to it. And I apologise, Phillip isn't usually so impolite. The cold's gone up his nose."

Phillip snorts indignantly again, and then tosses his mane and trots away from Edmund to graze at some frozen grass nearby. Henry watches him, a little awed, and then turns his gaze back to the King. _Should I bow?_ His family is full of Kings and Queens and Princesses, but he's never been taught the ins and outs of their society. Besides, the rules for his family's world are probably much different to this one.

He decides to simply duck his head, although he can't help but peek up from under his lashes. "Good to meet you, Your Majesty," he murmurs, and his teeth are chattering so hard that he almost bites his lip.

The tips of King Edmund's ears turn bright red. "You don't have to call me that," he says, shaking his head. "Like I said, just Edmund will do. You're definitely not from this world, are you?"

Henry straightens up and shakes his head. "No, I'm not. I know of other world's though, so this isn't as much of a shock as it probably should be." This time he really does bite his lip. Wincing, he rubs his mouth with his thumb and watches as Edmund's expression shifts from one of curiosity to one of concern.

"You're freezing," Edmund states. "The beavers were right to bring you to me. You're a son of Adam, and anyone is welcome in our Kingdom, as long as they bare no ill will to Narnia and her people. I take it you bare no ill will?"

"None at all," Henry assures him. "I'd just like to get warm and then go home, if that's alright with you."

He doesn't phrase it like a question, because it isn't one. Henry already knows that he's going home as soon as he can. He might live for magic and adventure, but that doesn't mean he wants to experience it away from his family. Besides, Grace will be at his house soon, and it won't be long until she or someone else notices him missing, if they haven't already.

King Edmund bites his lip but doesn't say anything. Instead, he stalks towards Phillip – long, sure strides – and murmurs something in the horses' ear. In less than a minute, Henry is being beckoned over, and he moves eagerly. Too eagerly, in fact.

He trips at the last moment, the cold making him clumsy, and the shock of it makes him go stiff. He's fully prepared to face-plant the freezing cold snow, but the moment doesn't come. Instead, warm hands grab at his waist and hoist him up until he's stumbling into a standing position. He blinks, and then blushes.

King Edmund looks a lot prettier this close up.

Henry blinks again and banishes the thought to the back of his mind, where he genuinely hopes it stays. He tries to move back a step or two, but King Edmund still has a hand on his waist and another one his arm. His skin is hot enough that Henry can feel his palms through his clothes.

"Careful," King Edmund murmurs, and then he releases Henry.

Henry mumbles his gratitude and watches as King Edmund swings one leg over the horse, mounting it with ease. A pale, callused hand is held out to Henry, and Henry places the Storybook in King Edmund's hand. King Edmund blinks at him in surprise as Henry hoists himself clumsily up onto the horse and slides into the space behind the other boy, who slowly hands the book back with a look of faint bemusement.

"It's a long ride," King Edmund warns him, and Henry just manages to wave at the Beavers before they're off, bounding through the forest and leaving the Lantern Waste behind them.

A castle comes into view as they reach the crest of a hill, and Henry lets out a relieved breath, only to suck it back in in awe. He's seen castles before, but this is what a castle is supposed to look like; white stone and ivy and towering turrets, magnificent arched windows set into the sides.

Phillip slows to a stop as they ride into the courtyard, and Henry releases his hold on the back of King Edmund's top. He's been unwilling to grab a stranger's waist, and instead had clung to the soft fabric and occasionally sworn under his breath as Phillip sped up or jumped over something small. He wasn't a complete novice when it came to horse-riding, but it was clear that he hadn't developed his mother's love of the sport. Regina was a natural, elegant and graceful and fast.

There's a girl waiting on the stone steps of the castle. She's short, young, with dark brown curls swinging around her heart-shaped face. She shouts happily as they come into view, and waves. King Edmund waves back, and although Henry can't see his face, he can tell that the other boy is smiling. King Edmund slip down off of Phillip and thanks the horse quietly, and this time when he holds a hand out to Henry, Henry accepts it gracefully. He slithers off of the horse and wobbles, tired, on the spot, his eyes drooping as he hugs the Storybook. He doesn't know why, but he suddenly feels exhausted.

"Edmund," calls the girl, her voice softening as she draws closer. "You're back earlier than I thought you'd be!"

She's younger than Henry, but she speaks with a simple sort of grace. She casts Henry a curious look and then flings her arms around the King, who hesitates before returning the hug a little awkwardly. This, Henry assumes, is one of the Pevensie sisters.

"I take it you found someone on your travels," the girl says, drawing back. She smiles kindly at Henry, "Who's this?"

Edmund opens his mouth and then shuts it again, rubbing the back of his neck boyishly. "Technically, the beavers found him, but yes. And I – uh, I may have forgotten to ask his name."

He looks so sheepish that Henry has to laugh.

The girl rolls her eyes and sticks her hand out. "I'm Lucy Pevensie," she says, smiling kindly. "This dolt is my older brother."

King Edmund nudges her with his elbow, and then leans in conspiringly, his face mere inches away from Henry. "She forgot to add her whole title. She's Queen Lucy, the _Valiant_."

Queen Lucy scowls and playfully smacks her brother on the shoulder, but King Edmund ducks away just in time, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Henry is a little starstruck. He's seen pictures of them before, the Kings and Queens, when he was younger, and he remembers reading about them, but it's another thing entirely to see all of it in action, to see the way they speak and move. He watches them for a while as they chatter back and forth, and then Queen Lucy turns to him with a look of shock.

"Aslan's Mane!" she cries, and Henry almost jumps. "I'm sorry, we've been ignoring you. And I meant to ask for your name!"

"Henry Mills," Henry says, and then he stifles a yawn with the back of his hand. He's tired, still, and cold, although it's warmer here.

"Henry," King Edmund repeats quietly, almost to himself, and both Henry and Queen Lucy turn to look at him. The boy goes bright red and coughs out something about seeing to Philip, before darting across the courtyard. Henry watches him go, and when he looks back, there's a strange smile playing around Queen Lucy's mouth.

"He's probably just tired. It's a pleasure to meet you," Queen Lucy says sweetly. "You look dreadfully cold, though. How about we find you a room?"

"I don't want to bother you," Henry says, although he doesn't really see another option, and he definitely isn't going to say no to a bed and some warm clothes. He's hungry, too, now that he thinks about it.

Queen Lucy laughs, and she looks startlingly pretty. "Henry, it's a giant castle. There's more than enough room for you."

A/N: I hope you liked it! Leave a review if you're feeling kind, and let me know if there are any mistakes or if there's something wrong. Thank you! Next Chapter up soon.


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